I wanna suck this nine plus inch ruler right now. I can taste the thin yellow metal or whatever the hell it's made of. I can smell the metallic tang or whatever the hell it smells like. I just need to get that distracting, bloated, veiny, red, angry cock out of the way and then the ruler will be all mine.
After I deep throat the ruler, I'll take it out to dinner. I wonder what rulers like for dinner. Maybe something it can measure like a bowl of spaghetti. There is a lot to measure in a bowl of spaghetti such as the spaghetti and even the bowl itself. If it's a fine restaurant the spaghetti might be on a plate instead although everyone knows it would be easier to eat from a bowl.
I guess I can deal with the centimeter side of the ruler though admittedly I'm metricphobic. It stems from an incident in Montreal where I ordered a foot long submarine sandwich and got punched in the face by a French separatist. I mean, I get the whole base 10 thing. I just can't go there again though. Too many bad metric memories.
Man I wanna suck that ruler.